


Moments Between Places

by skelelephant



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: (but not a hope-less romantic), Breekon and Hope are entirely in love in this, Breekon is a hopeless romantic bc i said so, M/M, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates, Telepathic Communication, anyway i'll see myself out, set sometime during the period they worked for Alfred Breekon (rip king), the boys can have a little romance. as a treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:07:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27050932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skelelephant/pseuds/skelelephant
Summary: In which Breekon makes an unexpected stop during a delivery.
Relationships: Stranger Entity Breekon & Stranger Entity Hope (The Magnus Archives)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 28





	Moments Between Places

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to @cryptidprynt for letting me dump the concept for this fic into her messages, you should go and read her fics after this they're just *chefs kiss*

Darkened countryside rolled by silently on the other side the Citroën's windshield, lit only a few meters at a time by the van’s headlights as it rumbled along the gravel road.  
This far out into the hills there were no street lamps, and the steady march towards year’s end brought on the cover of night earlier and earlier with each passing day. Breekon stared out into the rolling dark, hands resting comfortably on the wheel as he and his partner made their way towards their next delivery.  
The radio filled the silence between them, fading every so often as the connection struggled to reach their antenna. The silence was comfortable though, and Breekon allowed himself to become momentarily focused on the sensation of Hope’s consciousness overlapping with his own.  
He felt Hope grin next to him, not shifting his vision from the windshield.  
“Eyes on the road.”  
Breekon cracked a small smile too, returning his focus to the drive ahead.  
  
The radio whined softly between them, static filling the quiet air in the van for a moment before a song came through, stronger and clearer than it had been all night. Breekon was almost tempted to look for a radio tower somewhere in the darkened hills.  
But after a few seconds, his attention was focused solely on the song itself. It was one he recognized, oddly enough. It brought back vivid memories; images of rainy days and leaking pipes in a small apartment, of one of the few times they’d ever settled somewhere, of a radio that cracked and popped worse than this. Floorboards creaking underfoot and hands clasped clumsily as they swayed together…  
  
Breekon hadn’t realized he’d made up his mind to pull over until the car dinged at him in protest of his keys remaining in the ignition as he opened the door.  
Hope looked at him quizzically, but Breekon was already out of the van, gesturing for Hope to follow.  
His partner opened the passenger’s side door and stepped out, a question already brimming at the edges of their shared link.  
But Breekon pretended not to notice, leaning back into the van through the open passenger’s side door and cranking the volume knob on the radio as high as it would go.  
  
Music streamed out of the Citroën’s humble speakers, crackling noisily as Breekon turned back around to face Hope. The larger of the two delivery men extended a hand to his partner, who‘s brow quirked upwards under the brim of his hat in response.  
“Right here?” Hope asked, registering the silent invitation of his other half.  
“In the middle of nowhere,” Breekon replied, their voices speaking in tandem as they always did.  
Hope laughed, “Why?”  
“Why not?”  
He laughed again, and Breekon felt his chest warm at the sound. Hope’s laughter was such a beautiful clamour, he never tired of hearing it.  
And so Hope took his hand, the music filtering out into the cool night air as Breekon pulled him in.  
  
They were hardly graceful beings. Their forms were built for moving and lifting and intimidating those around them. But even so, they moved in perfect sync as was their way, swaying and turning there on the side of the road, gravel crunching quietly underfoot.  
He could tell Hope recognized the song now too, his partner smiling at their shared memory.  
The communication between them from this point onwards was silent; the intention and feelings understood by them alone. Thoughts passed from one to the other as easily as if they were their own, and indeed it was hard to tell sometimes where Hope’s stream of consciousness ended and Breekon’s began.  
  
Standing out there in the shadowed fields and gentle slopes of the countryside, where none of the lights from the cities or nearby towns could reach, the sky overhead was brimming with stars. The moon was new, leaving a dark spot in the celestial tapestry, and had Breekon not been so focused on his partner’s face and hands and the curve of his grin he may have felt the pull of the Vast in his chest. But he had no eye for the expanse of light and enormity that stretched out above their heads. Not when Hope had begun humming that melody quietly and slightly off-tune, more to himself than to Breekon, his expression so fond at the memory of that rainy afternoon they’d shared all those years ago. What could the sky above them possibly offer that could distract him from the other half of his soul?  
  
The music swelled, intercut with radio static, and Breekon met Hope’s gaze from beneath the brim of his hat, shooting him a grin. He stepped wide, adjusting the position of his hands and dipping his partner low, completing the maneuver before Hope could ask exactly what he looked so mischievous for.  
Surprise crossed Hope’s face for a moment as they paused there, his own hat slipping off his hair and falling to the gravel below.  
Then he laughed, and laughed— a rough but genuine sound that momentarily overpowered the music and filled the night air around them. He returned Breekon’s strong grip on his hand in a gesture that was as much in affection as it was an attempt to keep his balance.  
The laughter spread to Breekon’s chest as well, as much his as it was Hope’s. Though not as boisterous as his partner’s, Breekon still felt himself chuckle at the delight that his partner’s usually stony face exhibited.  
  
Such emotions they reserved for each other, shared only in private or through the consciousness they both inhabited.  
Breekon swung Hope back up to his full height, intending to let him go, but Hope had his own plans— as tended to be his way. His partner followed the momentum forward, catching Breekon’s face in his hands and kissing him hard— nearly knocking their heads together in his eagerness. But Breekon was used to such methods by now and returned the gesture instinctively and in earnest. His hands came to rest on Hope's shoulders, holding him in place as the slightly shorter man leaned against him, and Breekon felt Hope smile against his mouth.  
The song came to a close as they stood there, all alone together on the side of the road. Hope stepped back first— but not by much, never by much.  
  
“You’re gonna make us late,” Hope grinned.  
“Never been late yet,” Breekon replied, in a way that would have been breathless had either of them still possessed lungs to breathe with.  
“Not about to start now,” his partner fired back, maintaining his grasp of Breekon’s hand as they started back towards the van.  
  
As the old Citroën pulled off the side of the road so that it might continue on its delivery, Breekon placed one hand on the wheel. The other rested between the seats, holding that of his partner. The radio returned to a soft static buzz, and Breekon listened instead to the melody of the song that now echoed softly through his mind.

**Author's Note:**

> There it is, the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written.  
> I simply think they should get to be a little romantic! They've earned that much and if the podcast is gonna leave such big gaps in their story then I will simply fill them in with gay shit bc I am also a hopeless romantic


End file.
